Transient
by Mandolina Lightrobber
Summary: Izaya gets what he wants. No matter what he wants and no matter what others think that he wants. Izaya/Namie.


**A/N:** This was a request by one of my friends over at Livejournal. Delivered belatedly, my sincerest apologies.

**Disclaimer:** Narita Ryougo and all associated companies are the owners of _Du-ra-ra-ra!_. No copyright infringement intended and no money is being made from this. Please support the mangaka by buying the original work!

**Warnings:** Some sort of sex. Izaya-style.

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**Transient**

"What are you doing?" Namie asked frowning and a little startled. There was a good reason for that too; one named Izaya who had cornered her against a bookshelf and was presently leaning over her too close for comfort.

He hummed and grinned, tilting his head to the side.

"Testing a theory."

"What theory is that?" she asked scornfully and drew back even more, her back pressing against the shelves.

Namie's voice was a little higher than usual, Izaya noted and leaned in even closer, with great interest studying something on her face. A little bit on the shrill side. Well, it didn't matter.

Eyes narrowed, Namie watched him move lazily, his face so close now that she could make out the pores of his skin. She couldn't understand this man and the games he played. The minute she thought she had something figured out, he turned the tables again and she was left empty-handed while he spun in his chair, laughing.

Hands planted on the backs of the thick books, Izaya breathed against Namie's ear, humming and sniffing her hair. It didn't have any particular chemical smell, neither of the peach shampoo which he knew she used, nor the disinfectant which was used in the labs. It smelled… like her. Izaya laughed to himself and leaned down lover, the tip of his nose brushing against her neck. He tugged on the collar of her lab coat, pulling it down her shoulder a little.

"_Izaya_," Namie snarled, twisting away from him and shoving against his chest to make him back away.

"Oya, oya." Izaya laughed and caught her wrists, pinning them against the books where his hands had been leaning a moment ago. "You shouldn't fight your boss."

"Women can't get it up," Namie snapped, glaring at him and trying to kick him, but he avoided that and pressed his entire weight against her. "You said that yourself."

"I'm testing a theory." He grinned in her face and nipped at the tip of her nose. "And you look like you need some."

Namie hissed like an angry cat and tried to break free again, but he was stronger than she would have given him credit, holding her down with only a little bit of effort, and the fingers around her wrists tightened, driving them even harder against the bookshelf. Izaya latched onto her neck, showing no gentleness or any particular regard for her. He let go of one her wrist to pull on the lab coat, tugging it halfway down her arm and leaving it like that before his hand disappeared under her top, pulling it up until his fingers slipped under her bra.

"Are you kissing me or trying to chew a hole in my neck?" Namie asked in annoyance, fidgeting from the rough touches, but she didn't try to pull away this time, resigning herself to whatever new game Izaya had come up with. It wasn't like she could fight him physically, but if he got too caught up with this, too carried away, she still had that syringe in her pocket; a sedative meant for the test subject who escaped.

Izaya laughed against her neck, letting up a little and letting her other wrist go. He used both his hands to explore her body carelessly and roughly, flashing her quick feral smile. His knee went up, rubbing along the inside of her leg and pushing the skirt up. He pressed it against her, putting all of his weight into the motion.

"Which would you like better?"

Namie scowled. "I have work to do. Get off."

"Always working so hard," Izaya crooned against her ear. "Take a break with me."

"No, thank… you." The last syllable disappeared in a hiss because Izaya squeezed her nipple painfully, which left behind a tingling sensation once his hands had moved elsewhere.

Izaya's lips returned to her neck, gentle this time. He kissed and nipped lightly, moved up to graze her earlobe with his teeth and mutter something incoherent against her ear. His hands danced all over her body, gentle and caring, treading through her hair, caressing her neck, tracing her jaw line, brushing against her cheek, her lips, pushing up her bra and toying with her breasts. His knee rubbed against her, soon moving away, soon pressing harder, and Namie found that it became difficult to stay indifferent. She couldn't understand this man; something told her that she never would, but did it really matter? She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the bookshelf. She had never seen him give up on something he wanted to get and she had never seen him fail or falter before. Still, this didn't mean that Namie liked the role he had assigned her and she didn't make a move to touch him in return. At first.

Izaya grinned and bit her shoulder playfully. Her breathing had changed, had sped up, and so had her heartbeat; he could feel her pulse beating rapidly when his lips danced across her neck. Namie's fingers brushed his hair and then slid down his body to make their way under his shirt before moving up again. She traced his abs, ran her palms across his chest, rubbing his nipples as she went, and moaned when he bit her neck again. No, she decided, she didn't need to understand him.

In a moment, his touch was gone. Namie's eyes opened in time to see him step away from her, his usual grin in place.

"Pity that women can't get it up," he said in a plaintive tone. "You'd be pretty entertaining."

Then and there, Namie wanted nothing more than to murder him.

"And then you have work to do. Well," he drawled and threw his hands up dramatically before dancing away from her, "don't let me hold you up."

Namie's hand wandered to her pocket on its own accord in search for the syringe with the sedative. She knew that she would never use it, maybe, but right now she just needed to feel its reassuring presence. It wasn't there. Namie checked the other pocket as well. Not there either. Eyes narrowed, she glared at Izaya, as he rearranged some of the pieces on the game board while humming a melody she'd never heard before.

"What are you planning?" she ground out.

Izaya picked up a horse, played around with it for a moment and set it down amid the shogi pieces. Then he leaned back to admire his work.

"I already told you, didn't I? I'm testing a theory."


End file.
